A Change of Venue
by MEOW-I-am-a-cat
Summary: Savera Lascius was a trouble maker. So off she was sent from her home in the Capitol to live in District 11. How will she adjust to her new life? Begins the year of the 72nd Hunger Games. Rated T for swearing that will exist a bit more later on (and the kajillion deaths that come with the Hunger Games, some of which will be slightly graphic-ish).
1. Chapter 1

**A little story idea popped into my head and I finally got around to writing it. I'll be waiting until I finish writing one more chapter for this until I put up chapter 2, so that may or may not come soon.**

**Please excuse the title, I'm working on it. If you have any suggestions, or like it how it is, could you tell me, perhaps? I don't have a title as of right now, and I never really thought up any ideas to choose from, so yeah.**

* * *

"Savera Lascius. Savera Lascius! Miss Lascius, if you would be so kind as to pay attention, that would be_ lovely_!"

I snapped to attention at the screeching voice of my teacher.

"Miss Lascius," Ms. Wellwood continued to scold me, "what on earth could be so distracting to you? I have had to call you back to attention so many times today, not to mention this _year_! What are you always thinking about?!"

"Nothing," I whispered, not wanting to share the inner thoughts of my mind.

"_Savera,_" she insisted.

"The Hunger Games," I muttered.

"Pardon?"

"The Hunger Games," I repeated myself, louder this time.

"And what _about_ the Games, exactly?"

"How they aren't fair. We're killing innocent people! We have been for seventy years! A total of 1,634 people!" I pointed out.

"But have the districts ever complained?"

"No, but –"

"_Exactly_."

"– but we aren't _listening_ to them! How could we _know_?"

"Because if they cared enough to want the Games to stop, there would have been a revolution already."

"But they're probably _scared_! They don't want _more_ people to die!" I stood up in rage.

"Exactly. And that's what keeps them in line."'

"But they don't want _any _people to die!" I shouted.

Ms. Wellwood was silent. I took a deep breath to calm myself. I looked around me at the silent, shocked faces of my classmates staring at me. I felt my face grow warm with embarrassment. I slowly sat down, my face bright red.

"Please see me after class. To discuss your punishment," Ms. Wellwood instructed.

"What? Why?" I questioned.

"For speaking out of turn, arguing with a teacher, and for not paying attention to class for the hundredth time."

"One hundred times? What, have you kept track of each and every time you've had to yell at me?" I asked jokingly.

"Yes, actually," she replied completely seriously.

"Fine," I muttered. "Why did I have to get the most strict teacher _ever_?"

"Savera?"

I raised my head at the sound of my name. "Yes?"

"Silence."

I lowered my head again to stare down at the table in front of me as Ms. Wellwood began the day's lesson.

* * *

"Everyone is dismissed," Ms. Wellwood announced.

I, along with everyone else, moved to gather my things.

"– _except_ for Miss Lascius," she finished. I groaned aloud and stepped up to the strict old woman. "Now, Savera, what might you think would be a fair punishment?" she continued.

"Nothing," I said under my breath. But no matter how quiet I could be, and how loud the group filing out the door were, _nothing_ escaped her range of hearing.

She laughed. Not a fun laugh, like a friend had just told her the best joke in the world. More like a cold, hard, forced laugh, like the person she despised the most had said something mildly funny.

"Very... _funny_, Miss Lascius." The way she said it made it sound like she was trying out a new word for the first time, and it didn't quite fit in her mouth, on her lips. It sounded rough coming from her. A foreign word, the likeness of which she had never used before. "But no. You must be taught a lesson."

"Oh, believe me," I told her, "I've learned my lesson. You won't be hearing another word from me."

"Are you sure? Because the amount of times you've promised such things and the amount of times you've broken those promises begs to differ."

"And the amount of deaths resulting from the Hunger Games begs to differ that maybe the districts don't like them," I whispered.

"Savera, you are _fifteen years old_. You need to learn when a topic of discussion becomes overworked and a thing of the past. You also must learn not to speak of things you know nothing about."

"And to educate me on a few things, I take it you're sending me to one of the districts?" I said sarcastically. Let me tell you: I had _no _idea _whatsoever_ that _anyone_ would have and could have taken my suggestion seriously. It was a joke. I do that. I'm a sassy person. But – surprise, surprise – old Wellwood can't take a joke. Every damn thing is serious with that old bat. And my sarcastic little side comment became "An excellent idea!" and someone would be checking in with my parents to see if they would let me.

Of course they would. Why would she even bother to ask? I'm nothing but a troublemaker and my mother and father would ship me off to some District – probably the farthest from the Capitol – in an instant. I'd get no say whatsoever. I'd probably be gone by tomorrow. No time to say goodbye to my friends. I mean, there's only three of them, but they'd still miss me.

"Do you have a preference of which District you'd like to enter?" the sharp, shrill voice interrupted my silent loathing of my parents and pity of myself.

"Oh, so _now_ you're going to ask what I want?" I replied, irritated.

"I'll take that as a 'no.'"

"Oh, shut up."

"How about District 11? I hear they _all_ have to work there. You get to learn what it's like in the Districts, plus an added bonus of learning a bit of responsibility."

"_Hey_!" I protested. To no avail, as always.

"Ah, ah, ah." She waggled her long, wrinkly finger at me. "Don't argue with your superiors. I'd have thought you would know that by now." Her tone was disgustingly condescending, as always.

I rolled my eyes but stayed silent.

"And I suppose you'll need a name change," she continued, " as 'Savera' doesn't quite fit in with District 11. How about Terra? Terra Thornwood has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

I didn't make any motion to approve or disapprove. I stayed still and silent.

"Now, _Terra_," she stressed the new name, "hurry on home." Her sickly-sweet tone and innocent smile made me sick.


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, I got an actual review, and it was actually good, so here I am, back again with another chapter. Quite a bit shorter, though, sorry about that. Don't know how long I'll be gone this time; it depends on how much I actually work on the story. But I definitely want to get a few more reviews before I do update again.**

**By the way, still open for suggestions on the title, because I still don't like it. :/**

* * *

I stepped out of the room, grumbling about the unfairness of this whole thing.

"What did she want?" My best friend, Nadia Spectral, jumped at me the second my foot crossed the threshold, causing me to jump.

"Geez, Nadia, calm down. I just stepped out of line."

"Again?"

I sighed. It isn't the best thing when your friend points out how much you get in trouble. "Yes, again," I muttered. "I swear she has everything against me."

"Oh, everyone does, Savera. I don't think you need me to remind you that you aren't exactly the most liked person."

"No, I don't," I snapped, "and I'd appreciate you _not_ reminding me."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, what did you do this time?"

"I just spoke my mind, okay?"

"_And_?"

"And... Well, let's just say you probably won't see me around tomorrow."

She gasped, and her eyes widened in shock. "No."

I nodded sadly. "I spoke up about the Hunger Games. And, probably tonight, I'll be off to District 11."

"No," she gasped again. "They wouldn't."

"Oh, you and I both know damn well: they would. And they will."

Nadia pulled on my arm in the opposite direction I was supposed to be going.

"C'mon," she urged, "let's go see Briar and Tressa Rose."

I pulled myself out of her grasp.

"No," I told her. "I don't want to."

"But you have to say goodbye! You can't just leave!"

"It will hurt too much to see them again. Please. If they ask where I am, tell them. For me."

"How is it supposed to hurt to see them before you go? You're coming back, aren't you?"

"I'm supposed to learn what's it's like to live in the Districts. I get to experience the whole deal."

She understood what I was implying without me actually having to say it out loud.

"They wouldn't put a Capitol person in the Games, Savera! You'll be safe from that! And it's only for one year. It's not like you're living the rest of your life there. People want you here; you can't die! You won't be allowed to!"

"Nadia, face the facts. No one likes me here. If anything, it's going to be rigged so that I'm _in_ the Games, not so that I get out free."

"People _do_ like you! There's me and Briar and Tressa Rose! We want you here. And what about your brother, Atlas?"

"He'd _love_ to see me dead. I'm nothing but a nuisance to my family."

"You aren't going, and I'm going to make sure of that."

"Nadia, it's not your decision. It's not your place. Stay out of this. Please."

"What are you _doing_?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're acting like you _want_ to go!"

I looked into her eyes. All I could see was hurt and pain. I faltered. Did I want to go? No. But was I stopping myself? Did I care? No. Maybe I didn't want to go, but maybe I did want to die. And this was just the easiest way to do it.

I didn't answer her accusation. Instead, I turned away and ran off, home, tears stinging at my eyes.

She dashed after me. I tried to escape her, but she was faster than me. She gripped my forearm and spun me around to face her.

"No. You are not dying. Promise me that. No matter what happens, you will not die. I won't let you. I'll watch. And if you ever need help, I'll give it to you. But don't go putting yourself in life-threatening situations. At least _try_. Please. Promise that you'll try to survive."

A tear escaped my eye and slid down my cheek and I stared at my friend. I took a deep breath, about to swear I'd save my own life, when I second-guessed myself.

"I can't promise you anything," I whispered. "I'm sorry. Goodbye."

In a burst of speed, I tore from her grasp and rushed away, to spend my last hours at home alone.


End file.
